Chapter Eight: Aralyn

Aralyn stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror and stared back at the reflection.

Her reflection. At least it moved when she moved, smiled when she smiled, and yet…

Even as a young girl, she had never had time for dress up like her friends and other girls her age. There had been no time for something so frivolous, not when there was lore to be studied, spells to learn, and weapons training to be completed.

Other children might have become competent in playing an instrument or participating in sports. She was a protégé in vampire hunting, and nothing else.

For Aralyn, there had never been any other option.

"It's a beautiful dress." She held the skirt material between her thumb and fingers. It slipped like soft sand between her fingers, draping perfectly back to the floor.

"I remember my sister wearing it to the Dramdon Ball. It's where she met her betrothed."

Aralyn shifted her eyes from her one reflection and looked at Caldric. She was expecting there to be sadness in his eyes, but they were as level as always when they met hers.

"Did she marry?" Aralyn asked.

"She did." He nodded. "It was a beautiful evening. I distinctly remember it being beautiful."

"Evening?" Aralyn asked.

He smiled softly. "She planned the day so that I could be a part of it." He rolled his shoulders and straightened up. "I had the honor of giving her away."

"Your parents had passed?" Aralyn asked.

Caldric twisted his mouth into an expression somewhere between a wry smile and a grimace. "They were never the most supportive of parents. And when I was turned... Well, they did not approve of my lifestyle."

"But your sister did?" Aralyn had never gotten to know a vampire before. There was no part of her training that called for her to consider the person a vampire was before they were turned.

Hearing Caldric speak of his sister made him...a person. A man who had a life, a family, before he was turned…and after, it seemed.

Before her family cursed him with a frozen heart, had he hopes and dreams?

Did vampires even dream when they slept the day away?

"My sister and I had always been close. Our father and mother were ambitious. And so we were raised by a nanny. Until I was sent away to school. Which, if I recall, was a rather miserable experience at the time." He shrugged. "But that is ancient history. The dress looks wonderful on you."

"And what will you wear?" Aralyn asked. Perhaps there was a reason a vampire hunter was not trained not to ask questions. Not to see them as a person.

It was safer.

Already she could feel the creeping of doubt as to whether she could kill Caldric if it came to it.

"Ah." He held up a finger. "Wait there."

He slipped behind the privacy screen on silent feet. She stood still, looking at the room filled with several lifetimes' worth of memories around her. She couldn't help her mind from wondering what things this being might have seen through the centuries he had lived through. She was half tempted to ask him about it, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She had heard stories of vampire hunters rarely becoming attached to vampires, and knowing as little as possible about individuals was good practice to prevent that.

She looked up as he stepped out from behind the screen.

"Wow!" She could not find any other words for the figure he cut in the carmine shirt he had donned. It was as if in those few moments he had been out of sight he had been transformed from an unkempt waif in old, shabby clothes, and into an aristocratic gentleman. His pale complexion, the striking red texture of his shirt, cut through the middle with a tie of pure white, made Caldric look as though he had just jumped out of an old portrait from a time gone by.

The outfit was complete with a dinner jacket that hugged his shoulders like a glove, expertly pressed black trousers with a silver gilded seam, and shoes polished almost to the point of reflecting the room around him.

She had never seen such a well-tailored outfit. But then again, with the unchanging nature of vampires, he would have had literal lifetimes to perfect it.

"Do you like it?" He adjusted the bow tie at his throat, tugging at it with his finger. "It has been a long time since I have worn this suit. I suppose something of this nature is a bit old-timey. In fact, it may even be out of fashion with vampires, which is saying something."

"I like it." She nodded. "Is there a dress code?"

"Is that a subtle way of saying you do not approve?" Caldric asked.

"No, not at all. I am a firm believer that we should wear whatever we feel comfortable in. Both from a style and a comfort point of view." But would the Tolioni family feel the same way? Hadn't he mentioned there were strict rules? This was not the demure dress code she had been expecting.

"I agree," Caldric replied as if the matter was closed.

Aralyn fought the urge to question it further but decided to let it go. Caldric surely knew best when it came to these matters, so she would have to simply trust him.

"Well, now we have the clothes." Her hands smoothed over the silk fabric of her dress once more. She could stroke this thing for hours. The fabric was so satisfying to the touch. "What now?"

"Now, I will walk you through some of the traditions we might expect at the ball. Just a warning, they are numerous, and must be adhered to," Caldric said. "That is one thing about living for so long. It gives us plenty of opportunity to invent the most tiresome and needless customs."

"What else are you to do when you are immortal?" Aralyn said lightly.

"Believe me, that question becomes more difficult to answer the more the years pass by." Caldric held out his arm to her. "My esteemed lady, may I have the honor of guiding you to the lower chambers?" he asked with a formal bow, before offering his arm out.

"Sure?" She could feel the intensity that he watched her with as she went to hook her arm through his. Perhaps Caldric was still unsure as to how safe he was in her company. Likely he knew she was thinking the exact same thing, which is why she had made sure to tuck her stakes beneath the skirt of the dress, just in case.

He tensed as she rested her hand on his forearm, but then he relaxed and began to lead her from the room.

"Wait!" He held up his hand and then pulled away from her, ducking back into the room. "We have forgotten something."

"We have?" Aralyn asked as she waited in the doorway.

Caldric was on his knees in front of a closet, pulling out one box after another. "Here." He popped the lid off a box as he turned to face her.

"What is it?" Aralyn stepped back into the room and then arched an eyebrow as he held up a ruby-red shoe. It looked like something a visitor from Oz would wear. But then she was going to a ball, and she was going to dance, and probably wish she could tap her shoes together and be transported home. Although how a person was supposed to dance in shoes with pointed toes and a four-inch heel, she did not know.

But she was about to find out.

"Sit." He nodded toward the chair in the corner of the room, which she had draped her clothes and cloak over.

Backing up, Aralyn did as she was told and sat down. The dress puffed up around her like a red cloud and she placed her hands on it to smooth it out.

Caldric inched closer. "May I?"

"You may."

He reached beneath the hem of her dress and his cool fingers tenderly grasped her ankle and lifted her sensibly booted foot. Placing the red shoe back into its box, he then untied her bootlaces and eased her boot off. Then he rolled her sock down and slipped it off her foot.

There was a vulnerability about being seated there with Caldric's fingers curled around her foot. And she had to resist the sudden urge to pull back, to break contact with him. It was unnatural feeling the cold touch of a vampire, and even more so when it was so tender, instead of the vice-like grip of a vampire trying to eat her. But this was why she was here.

If they stood any chance of putting on a half-convincing display of being a couple at the ball, first they would have to convince each other. So, she sat still, heat rising in her cheeks as he took the red shoe from the box and slipped it onto her foot.

She felt like Cinderella with her Prince Charming.

It was a winsome, whimsical thought, especially considering that her prince charming was an undead monster that she had spent her life hunting. But as he repeated the action, fitting the other shoe to her foot, she could not shake off the notion.

Caldric offered his hand out once again, helping her to her feet. Aralyn attempted a quarter curtsy, managing just about to keep her feet with Caldric's help, and she swore she could see the ghost of a smile on his pallid lips.

As they headed out of the room, now dressed up, she felt as though they were already heading to the ball.

The stairs were an experience all of their own. Aralyn was light on her feet, with the balance and poise of a cat when wielding a sword or a stake. But four-inch heels...it was like her feet were not her own.

How she was supposed to look elegant and refined while wobbling like a newborn foal, she could not fathom. But she could master capoeira, and she would master this.

"Try to relax," Caldric said and placed his hand on hers.

She looked down, aware that her fingers were digging into his forearm. "Sorry." She flexed her fingers and loosened her grip. "This brings a whole new meaning to the phrase no pain, no gain."

"You are doing superbly," he encouraged.

"Are you lying to me?" Aralyn asked.

"Not at all," he said lightly. "Superb is a subjective word. Compared to say a goose attempting to walk in those shoes, you are doing superbly."

She chuckled and relaxed a little and wobbled a little less. "A goose. But they are used to balancing their long neck, no?"

"Hmm," he murmured. "But now that you have relaxed a little, you are moving more akin to the elegant swan."

"Encouraging."

"That was my aim. Also, to introduce our first tradition. This circle of vampires like you to use animals as metaphors and analogies. During conversations, do so as often as you can."

"...Right." Aralyn gave him a sideways glance. If she didn't know that he was incapable of feeling humor, she might have thought that he was playing a prank.

At last, they reached the bottom of the stairs, and she was yet to fall. As she walked across the walkway toward the round hall, she developed a rhythm in the clicking and clacking of the shoes, lightening her steps as she walked heel toe, heel toe.

"There, you have it," he said as he adjusted her arm and took hold of her hand more delicately, allowing her to stand on her own.

"I do," she said with some pride, as she paraded around him like a show pony.

"And curtsy." He arched his eyebrow and bowed low, his movement measured and elegant.

"Curtsy." She screwed up her face.

"Custom and tradition," he said, as he swept his arm across his body.

"Torture and pain," she replied as she gave a wobbly curtsy.

"You will need to practice walking and dancing," Caldric advised.

Those she might accomplish, but would she be able to fight, or defend herself, if necessary, in these clothes?

Maybe she should suggest they add it to the vampire hunter school syllabus.

"How did your sister manage in these?" Aralyn held up her hands and looked down at the shoes. "She must have had the grace of a…a giraffe? They're used to long legs." She looked up at Caldric, but he had a faraway look in his eyes. "So…what now?"

"I think we're done for tonight."

Aralyn frowned. "Really? I thought we were just getting started."

"We are." His eyes came back into focus. "But it's getting early, and I think it best that we end on a positive note. I feel that we have already made some decent progress. Not the least that a vampire and a vampire hunter are coordinating at all."

"I suppose you're right," Aralyn said, though as she looked into his violet eyes, she wondered what was the real reason for such an abrupt end to their night together.